by Erin Lorence
Suddenly, the trees opened up to a small lake. Dead stumps and broken trunks jutted out from the far end, but most importantly, I saw no tire marks on its banks. No litter. No signs that humans ever came here.
The steady chatter of birds was reassurance enough. We staggered straight for the water’s edge.
I’d gorge myself on water until I was sick. My skin tingled in anticipation. The coolness would rinse away the sweat, the layers of grime, the poison—
“Hey. You!”
I skidded to a stop and almost fell forward into the shallows, when Melody knocked into me.
It’d happened. We’d been seen. Talked to. It was too late to hide.
A tiny figure of a girl waved at us from the middle of the lake. “Hey.”
She must’ve popped onto that stump from nowhere. I would’ve spotted those glowing pink strips of fabric she wore on her otherwise naked body from a mile away.
But my pulse slowed, and my fists unclenched.
We could outrun this...I was guessing five or six-year-old? Even if she tried chasing us, by the time she made it to shore we’d be long gone.
I eased my hand back and felt for my water bottle. I’d fill it and split.
A dark head bobbed out of the water in front of the pagan girl’s stump.
My heart began to slam at the sight of the boy…or was it a man? Didn’t matter. Either way he was bigger than me—I could tell by the size of his tanned shoulders that shone with the water I needed.
He swiped his plastered, black hair back. He apparently noticed us and raised a hand. “Oh. Hey!”
A low voice, not a child’s. The laughter in it seemed like a trick to throw me off, so I’d let my guard down.
He mimed tugging at an invisible shirt. “Uh. Is it winter over where you’re standing? Because that’s a lot of fur you got on for a—”
The girl in pink catapulted from the stump onto his shoulders. They disappeared together in a splash that set the whole pond moving in a frenzy of chasing, choppy waves.
I ran.
Each step pushed my muscles until sharp pains tore at the tops of my thighs. I didn’t slow.
Giggling started up from behind as I blew past the first tree. I heard deeper chortling too, the sputtered word “brat.” Then...
“Wha—Why are you running—hold up! Wait!” His voice lowered but still carried over the water. “Cut it out, Jezzy. Get off me. I need to see...those might be radicals! No, let go. And stay here. You follow, and I swear…”
I wove around trees, searching for a decent one. But spindly cedars and pines with missing lower branches made up the whole dumb grove.
Melody’s stumbling footsteps and ragged breaths grew fainter. She couldn’t keep up. But the splashes at the pond had ended—he’d made it to land. I pushed myself harder.
Just one good tree.
Melody screamed. The high-pitched note hung in the air, ending with a muffled thud. A shout. And the crunch of sticks.
I kept running, my odds of escape much better. I’d reach the Council.
A much more necessary quest than joining in a losing battle to free the Brae girl and getting myself killed in the process. I wasn’t saving my own life. I was saving my family’s. Melody’s family’s. A whole nation of believers. I ran for their lives. I was the dove. God’s messenger. I was important.
Right, God?
I smacked full force into something as solid as a tree trunk and bounced backwards, stunned, onto the brown needles.
My eyes snapped open but my lungs still couldn’t function. Finally, I drew a deep breath of air and sat up. Nothing blocked my escape route. The closest tree grew over ten feet away in the diffuse sunlight.
I scrambled to my feet and shuffled gingerly forward, my arms outstretched. I waved my hands around.
Still nothing. No barrier—invisible or otherwise.
I crept forward, away from Melody’s disturbing silence. Away from the excited voice. I couldn’t allow myself to focus on that.
Something touched me again. Softer this time.
I froze. And stared down at my right hand where fingers—fingers I could only feel and not see—wound through mine. Once intertwined, I felt a tug. A pull in the direction of the people I’d outrun.
I waited expectantly but felt nothing else. The unseen hand slipped away. My own hand trembled, found my damp cheek, and I knew that the choice—either to run to the mountain or to go back—was mine.
I dragged myself back to where Melody went down, each step as though slogging through waist-deep mud.
“Are. You. Radicals?”
I slipped behind a trunk that did a rotten job of concealing me.
Melody’s stomach hugged the ground while the Heathen boy, a teenager, straddled her pack, his knees on either side. Caging her in. He held her wrists behind her.
“Are you? C’mon tell me. Are you radicals? Fanatics?” He twisted her unresisting arms further, and she shifted her head to the side.
Tears smeared her cheeks.
I turned my face away. What...what was I supposed to do? Rescue her?
“Yay! You got one Woof.”
I whipped around and took in the short, black hair plastered against the scrawny neck and round face, the pink outfit exposing too much tanned flesh. A pale pink scar ripped a line down her sternum.
“Jezebel.” The boy spoke through clenched teeth. “I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. But you forgot there’s only one of you. You need me. So that one,” the girl aimed a stubby finger at my chest, “I’ve got.”
She skip-hopped over Melody’s legs and galloped straight at me. The boy’s eyes overtook her path. They locked with mine.
“No! Jezebel!” He lunged after her.
The moment he moved off, Melody got to her feet. This time I let her lead, but his long arm stretched past me. It snagged Melody’s bag and yanked her to the ground. He slammed into me from behind, his weight knocking me to the ground.
I rolled out from under him and crawled out of his reach. Free. But helpless to save Melody who was pinned again. Unless I fought.
Gilead, Gilead, how do I win this? What do I do?
He’d said it a million times.
A ruthless offense is the best defense, Dove. Use what you’ve got and deliver it fast and hard. An immediate, unrestrained attack—that’s key.
Right. Attack. OK. But attack with what? What did I have? I clenched my skinny fingers into hopeless fists.
Then...oh!
I ripped off my pack, dumped out its contents, and, fumbling, snatched up the three-inch hollow tube. I jammed it to my lips and blew. An unearthly droning sound filled the air.
“Hey! You! Stop...stop it! Don’t be calling for help.” Melody’s captor made a futile swipe in my direction.
I backed away, still calling the bees to come to my aid. To rescue Melody.
C’mon, bees. C’mon. Bees had to live around here. Had to.
I blinked. My fingers and lips were empty. Silent.
I glimpsed my call wrapped in the girl’s fist before she thrust it behind her back and skittered away. “I got the whistle, Woof.”
The boy she’d called Woof threatened me. “Leave her alone or see what happens. And who were you calling? Who else is out here?”
“No one.” I brushed off the pine needles stuck to my sweaty palms and began shoving things back into my bag. “There’s no one else.”
What was wrong with me? We’d been captured. I shouldn’t be so OK with being captured. But my heart continued to beat at its regular pace, and my breathing didn’t spike.
“Huh.” He tightened his hold on Melody. “And don’t lie to me. I know you’re radicals.”
“No. We’re Christians. True believers.”
He snorted. “Yeah, OK, whatever. Same difference. Fanatics.”
“The warrior, Dove!” My partner cried out in Amhebran from the dirt. “Go! Find him. He can rescue me—I know he can. It’s my only chance. I’m sor
ry I can’t help you anymore. Hurry, please hurry—”
Woof shook her arm. “Hey, radical. Knock off the Christian...voodoo...or whatever you’re doing. Use real words if you’ve got something to say. On second thought, shut up while I figure out what to do.”
He grimaced. “Two? This is crazy. One radical I could handle. But two?”
As if preoccupied with his dilemma, he shifted off of Melody and allowed her to sit up. He whistled under his breath, although his fingers remained locked around her sleeve.
The kid, Jezebel, began to chatter. I supposed she asked me questions, since her gaze never left me and her lips moved a million miles a minute. But I didn’t hear. My own shattering realization overwhelmed me.
Not a foe. I was certain that’s what the Spirit had whispered. But...what?
That was crazy. Like saying Gilead was a gentle boy. Or my grandma a serious national threat.
Not a foe? Who? That pagan who’d attacked us? The one still acting like he might rip off Melody’s arm?
Yet, that powerful sense of peace stole through me, even though a small part of my consciousness shrieked at me to snap out of it. That I couldn’t be OK with something so, so wrong.
I couldn’t shake the peace.
So, what then? Was I choosing not to escape from a nonbeliever if we had the chance?
I shouldered my belongings and approached Melody, flashing my enemy—who maybe was not my enemy?—my empty hands. See? No weapons.
I tensed when I squatted, in case he might grab my arm too.
But I was bigger than Melody. Plus, now he knew I wouldn’t ditch her. He kept his hands off.
“Danger or not?” I murmured in Amhebran.
“What?” She tugged against Woof’s hold to show how obvious the answer was.
“Stop. And think a moment.” I shook my head. “No, forget that. Don’t think. Feel. In your heart, what do you feel there? Are they a threat? Or not a threat?”
I got no response.
“Because I say ‘not,’ Melody. I feel like the Spirit wants us to go with them. For now. And we should—”
A sharp sting near my eyebrow stole my breath.
The girl balanced on a log, towering over us with the bee call, hand on her hip. Her right hand clutched another pinecone in a threat. “Stop it, you. My brother said no voodoo.”
I swiped my fingertips across my freckles, checking for blood. I spoke in English to her brother who thought his sister’s pinecone attack hilarious. “Sweet kid.”
“Warned you,” he managed to choke out.
“Huh. So, Woof. Let’s say you’ve caught us. What now?”
“I did catch you.” He flexed his free arm so the thin line of muscles showed.
I waited. What? Was I supposed to swoon or something? I’ve grown up with Gilead. Muscles are as common as pine needles where I’m from.
He kept flexing another second and ended up being an idiot again.
At last, he stopped. “And quit calling me Woof. It’s Wolfegang—or better, Wolfe. And I have no idea ‘what now.’ I’ve never gotten radicals before. Never even seen any of you. So what’s the standard protocol? Ever been captured?”
I shook my head.
He sighed. “Well, unless I’m going to finish this and bury your fanatical remains in the woods here, I guess you’d better come home with me while I decide what to do. You people are more loyal than I’d expected. But not as tough. Unless you’re packing—hang on. I’d better hold onto these.”
He confiscated our bags, throwing them over his shoulder. “OK, Jezzy. You lead. And you two don’t try nothing...or pinecones will fly.”
Melody watched me through the ragged curtain of hair that’d escaped its coil. Run for it? Now? Waiting for your lead.
When I gestured for her to follow the girl, she gawked at Wolfe. Her head moved upward as if her gaze roamed from his bare toes to the triangular nose. She caught my eye. Looked at his uncovered chest. And then back at me.
“Sorry, Dove,” she murmured in our language. She heaved herself up and limped after Jezebel. “You’re sure it’s the Spirit that’s urging you to go with him?”
I didn’t get what she meant. Until Wolfe put his fingers between my shoulder blades and shoved, propelling me after the others.
My face throbbed with heat. As if I’d ever mistake something like lust for the prompting of the Holy Spirit. And besides, how could she think I’d choose a godless, obscenely dressed guy? Never. Never ever.
Not that I was choosing anyone. If my family asked me to marry someday, then I’m sure I’d end up with...well, I didn’t know too many people. Micah?
My head rotated back and forth, rejecting the idea—no doubt making the pagan behind me think I was nuts. I’d refuse to be forced, that’s all. No need to ever get married. Not everyone did. At least I didn’t think so.
I trudged after Melody.
How dumb was I? Thinking about my future marital status when being led to a Heathen’s home in the heart of Enemy territory. One that had to be crawling with his minions.
Stay alert, Dove. Be ready. Pay attention to the Spirit. And don’t be distracted by anything—especially loser boys.
But that turned out to be impossible since the one behind me began to whistle, sounding like a sparrow. Sounding like my mother.
12
“So. You’re here because?”
In the last ten minutes Wolfe had asked this one twice. And we’d not answered, twice.
Take a hint. There’s a pattern.
“C’mon. It can’t be such a secret. Are you passing through or what? Where were you going? Why are you here?”
He whistled some more. “Fine. How about this. Don’t say anything if it was you who set fire to the dumpster behind the town’s liquor store. Or painted over the women’s clinic sign. Clearly radicals. You gave yourselves away by what you graffitied.”
I focused on the slouched, defeated shoulders in front of me while we picked our way through the undergrowth.
“Yeah. I knew it.”
I whipped around to tell him off for being so smug and confident that Christians would go around destroying others’ property.
We’d done nothing to deserve this accusation. I wasn’t the one who’d tackled Melody or stolen a bee call and two packs.
I glared into his widened eyes. His lips pursed to whistle and stayed puckered in surprise. I swung back around and marched on.
Waste of time. Waste of breath.
Satan was the Father of Lies. And this was his territory. And these were his people. Of course he brainwashed them into thinking we were as violent and destructive as they were.
“Whoa.” He jogged to catch up. “All right. I see you’re a bit hot and bothered about discussing your criminal past. So how’s this? I promise not to bring it up again if you tell me your names?
“Oh, come on.” He invaded my personal space while walking backwards to face me. “Don’t you think it’s unfair that you know ours, but we don’t know yours? Of course, I can always give you nicknames. But do you think your predicament is going to get much worse by me knowing—”
“Dove.”
He stumbled and fell out of my line of vision. “Dove? That’s your—I mean...yes. Of course it is. Lovely name. Super common. Dove.”
Jerk.
“What about her? The bite-sized screamer?”
“Melody.”
Ahead, my traveling partner flinched.
Then Jezebel led us into a shallow clearing of unnaturally clipped, dead grass. She stopped skipping and readopted the role of stoic guard—the one she’d abandoned for balancing on downed trunks and chucking stuff at birds.
Yet it wasn’t her but the manmade, brown structure edged in white at the far end of the grass that had me squaring my shoulders. It was a copy of the farmland shelters Melody and I’d killed ourselves to avoid.
And I saw two more that were identical.
Gilead’s voice shouted at me as I approached this first
solid, boxlike structure. It roared when I stepped through its opening where Wolfe had slid a large sheet of glass out of the way.
No one jumped on me when I entered, which was the only good thing about the place. Looming walls blocked out the natural light.
My eyes lit on a few things I recognized. Things I knew from the junk piles back home—a chair with small wheels. Bunches of cardboard boxes on a table, one bright yellow with a picture of food on it. Things with snaky wires. Pictures. But so many I couldn’t name. What were their purposes?
I rubbed at the rush of goose bumps beneath my sleeves. December air. I glanced at Melody for her reaction to this unnatural, cluttered home.
Her dark orbs lost focus, her skin bloodless under its sunburn. Before I could move, she hit the fuzzy ground in what sounded like a painful flop.
“Oh no.” Jezebel rounded on her brother with a smack to his middle. “You killed her.”
Smack. Smack. Her hands rained against his skin. He dodged the next set and knelt next to Melody’s body.
I got in his way. “Don’t touch her.”
His outstretched hands whipped back. “What...I didn’t...”
“Get water.”
“Right.” He leaped to his feet. Then swung around. “To drink? Or dump on her?”
His sister flew to a nearby wall the color of tree sap and threw open a door. “In the shower! Put her in the shower!”
She disappeared into the space beyond, and a blast of light sprang from its rectangular opening. “I’ve seen this before on TV. Trust me. This is what you do.”
The sound of rain pounded down from inside the house. Indoor rain showers? Suspicious. But what was I supposed to do with this Brae girl if she died on me?
I dragged her dead weight forward...and almost dropped her.
What was this place?
A humongous, solid basin dominated the floor. Water drops poured into it from high up in the wall. Vapor clouds rose from the basin.
I shuddered. Everything in this room radiated the whiteness of new baby teeth. Creepy.
“Here.” Wolfe held out a clear jar of water.
I couldn’t hold Melody while pouring water into her mouth, so I lowered her to the floor. Her head lolled against the white wall.